


Close

by AutisticWriter



Category: Yonderland (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M, One Shot, Safer Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: A kiss leads to something more… intimate.





	Close

Every so often, Pressley finds that a goodnight kiss can turn into something more. And tonight is one of those nights.

He presses a kiss to his partner’s lips, and is about to switch the light off and lie down when he gives him another kiss. Flowers grins and kisses him back, and he carefully slides his hands down Pressley’s back.

“Can I put my hand up your shirt?” Flowers asks.

Pressley nods, and lets out a slight gasp as a cold hand slides up his stomach, fingers caressing his chest. Flowers only wears his underpants to bed, so it is easy to run his hands up and how his chest as they deepen the kiss. They lean closer together, and it takes Pressley a few seconds to realise that they’re sitting up now, hands roaming as they kiss.

When Flowers breaks the kiss, Pressley feels slightly disappointed. But then Flowers their foreheads together and his breath is hot against Pressley’s face as he says, “Do… do you want to…?”

His question is vague, but Pressley knows exactly what he means. And he knows what his reply will be.

He nods his head, but forgets that they are so close and accidentally head butts Flowers. He smiles apologetically and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry. But yes… yes, I’d love to.”

Flowers grins, giving him a soft kiss. “So would I.”

Slowly, they disrobe each other. They keep kissing as they do so, so they can’t really see what they are doing. But they manage it, Flowers pulling Pressley’s shirt over his head, Pressley slipping his hands inside the waistband of Flowers’ underpants and sliding them down his legs. It is only when they are completely naked that they break the kiss.

Pressley looks his partner up and down, smiling. He sees Flowers’ naked all the time, but it is the privacy that makes this special. His cheeks are flushed and his forehead shines with sweat, and a glance downwards shows Pressley that he definitely wants this as much as he does.

Their preparation is slow and careful. After all, there is no need to rush things. Pressley rolls onto his stomach, gasping into the pillow as Flowers prepares him, his fingers cold yet wonderful. Flowers takes his time, applying more lube to his fingers and doing it again and again, and he presses kisses to the back of Pressley’s neck and head as he moans, longing for him to hurry but also wanting him to go even slower.

When Pressley is ready, he rolls onto his back again, and pulls Flowers into a deep kiss.

“I love you,” he mumbles, struggling to keep his voice from trembling.

Flowers grins, tracing patterns on his chest with his clean hand. “I love you too.”

Kneeling on the bed, Pressley takes a condom from the sideboard draw and carefully unwraps the packet. As Flowers bites his lip, Pressley smiles and puts the condom on for him. His fingers graze sensitive skin as he slides it in place, and Flowers barely stifles a moan.

And they’re done.

Pressley lies back down on his back, raising his hips as Flowers slicks more lube over the condom. Flowers shuffles towards him, and helps Pressley raise his legs until his ankles rest on his shoulders. Shifting until he is comfortable, Pressley looks up at his partner, amazed once more at how beautiful Flowers looks as he kneels in front of him, naked except for the bandana wrapped around his head. Flowers moves closer, leaning down to kiss Pressley.

“Are you ready?” he says when he pulls away.

Pressley smiles. “I’m ready.”

And, in a long, slow movement that shows just how many times they have done this, Flowers kisses him softly as he shifts his hips and enters him.

Pressley moans into his mouth, that moment still as strange yet wonderful as the first time they did this. He remembers their first time every time that have sex, thinking of the two of them drunkenly (although still sober enough to consent) and clumsily going through the motions in a blur of frantic movements and fumbling hands. But it is nothing like that now; they have been together for so long that sex is more about love than passion. But, at the same time, it also feels as similar as their (somewhat awkward) first time.

Especially when Flowers lets out a slow, deep breath and murmurs, “I love you so much.”

His voice lacks the drunken slur, but he sounds almost the same.

“I love you too,” Pressley moans, and he realises that he is echoing his past self too.

It isn’t like they follow a script or anything, but the same words just seem to come to them in that wonderful moment – a moment as wonderful as it has ever been.

Flowers shuffles even closer, until Pressley’s hips are basically in the air, the backs of his knees pressed against Flowers’ shoulders. He presses against Pressley, slowly letting him adjust as he pushes further into him, and Flowers moans in such a way that Pressley feels his whole body vibrate.

“Is that good?” Flowers asks, and Pressley kisses him; even after all these years, Flowers is still careful to make sure he isn’t hurting him.

Pressley smiles, amused to find Flowers’ voice trembling. “It’s wonderful.”

Satisfied that Pressley is comfortable, Flowers starts thrusting, building up a steady rhythm as he moves inside of him. Pressley’s breathing shudders and he kisses him deeply, his tongue exploring his mouth as his hands trail up and down Flowers’ back, running his fingertips along his skin.

Flowers’ hands are braced against the bed beside his shoulders, his hands clenched into tight fists as he moves his hips, and his face is very close to Pressley’s, allowing them to kiss comfortably. He carefully trails kisses across Pressley’s face, stopping just below his ear.

“Do you want me to go faster?” he whispers, his breath hot against his ear.

“You know I do,” Pressley says.

And so Flowers moves faster, and Pressley moans, holding onto Flowers’ hips to help him move them. And pressure seems to build up inside of him, and he knows he is close, but he tries to savour the moment before it happens, staring into his partner’s eyes, wondering if it’s possible to love someone more than he loves Flowers.

Pressley cries out when he climaxes, coming over his stomach as waves of overwhelming, wonderful pleasure flow through him.

“I love you,” he gasps, his heart pounding. “I love you so much.”

When he has his breath back, he opens his eyes, not even realising he had shut them. Flowers is still thrusting, his face getting tenser with every movement of his hips. Pressley knows he is getting close, but also knows that his partner tends to take longer than him.

Knowing what he usually does in this situation, he looks at Flowers, and raises his eyebrows.

Flowers surely knows what he is going to do, but he asks anyway.

“Would you like me to…?” he says, making a hand gesture.

Flowers looks at his hands and bursts out laughing. “Seriously?”

A smile spreads across Pressley’s face. “What?”

“You’re so silly sometimes,” he says, mimicking the gesture he just made, chuckling. “But seriously, I’d love you too.”

Pressley grins and kisses him. “As you wish.”

As Flowers continues to thrust, Pressley fumbles for the lube on the bedside table. He slicks some over his fingers, and then reaches between Flowers’ legs. He trails his slippery fingers across sensitive skin – and the noise Flowers makes when he eases them into him shows Pressley that he is doing it right.

“Do you like that?”

Flowers makes a whimpering sound, shifting forwards into Pressley and backwards against his fingers. He closes his eyes, such a contented smile on his face. “I… I love it.”

As Pressley slowly moves his fingers, Flowers thrusts faster. He moans, his breathing becoming jagged, and Pressley knows he is close. Sure enough, it only takes Flowers another minute before he climaxes, muffling his cry into Pressley’s shoulder.

He thrusts slowly for a few more seconds, Pressley slowly removing his fingers as his partner moans, and then Flowers flops down on top of him, damp and heavy and gasping for breath.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, pressing kisses all over Pressley’s face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Pressley says, smiling.

“No, thank you,” Flowers says, and Pressley laughs.

“Thank both of us?”

Flowers smiles. “Yeah, that’s probably easier.”

“Um… should we get ourselves cleaned up?” Pressley says, suddenly aware of their predicament.

After all, they must look a sight, what with Flowers lying on top of him and Pressley’s legs sticking up in the air. Not even mentioning the fact that they’re both naked and in such a position that they would never get over the embarrassment if someone saw them like this.

Flowers chuckles, his face flushing even redder. “Probably, yes. Are you ready?”

Pressley nods, and Flowers shifts his hips and slowly, carefully pulls out. He groans at the sensation (which feels rather strange now it’s over), and watches Flowers take off his condom and tie a knot in the end of it.

And then they get out of bed and head into the en suite bathroom. They both wash their hands, and then get ready to clean themselves up. As Pressley changes the bed sheets, Flowers runs them a bath. In the bathroom, they kiss as they wait for the bath to fill up, all trembling muscles and sweaty skin.

“That was amazing, Flowers,” Pressley says, wiping his abdomen with toilet paper.

Flowers helps him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead. “It was indeed. You were wonderful, you know.”

Pressley smiles. “So were you.”

“Not this again,” Flowers says, sighing in mock exasperation. “Let’s just say we were both wonderful.”

Pressley turns the taps off, and Flowers chucks a handful of foaming things (Debbie calls them bath bombs, despite the fact that they don’t explode) into the hot water. They turn the water bubbly, the surface of the water covered in foam.

They slide into the hot water, once again loving their huge, deep bath. The water comes right up to Pressley’s shoulders, the bubbles foaming and smelling wonderful.

“Those bath bombs were a good gift, weren’t they?” Pressley says, leaning his head against Flowers’ shoulder.

Flowers mumbles something in reply, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

They stay in the bath until the water goes lukewarm, at which point they both start to get cold. So they get out and dry themselves off, and hold hands as they return to the bedroom. Pressley pulls on new pyjamas, and persuades Flowers to put on some underpants. And then they get into bed, cuddling up under the sheets.

Pressley is exhausted, and can’t quite stifle a yawn. Flowers laughs, only to yawn himself. Pressley swats at him, and Flowers kisses his nose.

“Goodnight, you wonderful idiot,” Pressley says, giving him a kiss.

Flowers yawns again. “Goodnight.”

Pressley falls asleep almost as soon as the lights turn off, a smile on his face.


End file.
